


Follow You Down

by TuesdayToo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Gunshot Wounds, Hallucinations, Hurt Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8532847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuesdayToo/pseuds/TuesdayToo
Summary: Dean’s in hell. Sam’s bleeding out in a cave.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll! This was written for ohsam's Triple Play over on LJ (which you should check out because there are loads of amazing fics!) Thanks to caranfindel for the wonderful prompt: 1. A cave or mineshaft 2. Any character - except they're actually a hallucination 3. Sam's bleeding and he's got to get to the surface before he passes out. But someone's trying to prevent that.
> 
> Warning for brief suicidal thoughts.

“Sam.” The voice is gravelly and painfully familiar.  
  
Sam’s head and flashlight whip around, shooting pain up his side. His heart’s pounding painfully loud. “Dean? You…”  
  
He can’t quite voice the thought, mind trying to catch up to what Dean’s doing here, in a cave in the middle of Minnesota. He squints through the flashlight beam at his brother, who’s leaning up against the wall.  
  
“What—How did you…?” Sam steps closer, then freezes, stuck in confusion. His thoughts are doing weird loops and he’s not sure if it’s cause of Dean’s miraculous appearance or the hole in his side.  
  
“I crawled my way outta hell myself, just like Dad did.” The flashlight beam bobs up and down over Dean’s grin. “Where was the rescue, Sam? I got tired of waiting.” Dean sounds like he’s talking about being stood up on a date.  
  
The air sticks in Sam’s throat. He’s been trying, he’s been with Ruby for the past three months, he just couldn’t—  
  
Everything stutters to a stop then slips into place. “You’re not real,” Sam whispers.  
  
There’s a pause, then, “Well, real me is having a funky time down under.” Everything’s a joke to Dean.  
  
Sam sags against the wall, hissing as pain flares up his side. The flashlight beam goes back to pointing at the floor as he stuffs it under his arm. _Stupid._ Of course it isn’t Dean.  
  
“Y’alright, Sammy?” Dean pushes off the wall and steps a little closer, peering at the red patch across Sam’s shirt. Of course, the real Dean would’ve already noticed.  
  
“It’s Sam,” he mutters, holding his side. His hands shake as he inspects his flannel shirt he cinched around his waist as a bandage. It’s already leaking red, but not much he can do about it until he gets out of here. He should probably be a little more concerned about the fact that he’s seeing his dead brother, but not much he can do about that either.  
  
When he looks up, Dean’s still watching him. “Wrong place, wrong time,” Sam explains. “Just ganked a wendigo. Found the vic about the same time as the park ranger.” He waves an arm in the vague direction of the entrance as he wheezes in a breath. “He uh, got a shot in and now’s staked out near the entrance.” Sam doesn’t know why he’s explaining to someone that’s only in his head.  
  
“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbles. “We always get blamed for other people’s crap.”  
Sam doesn’t answer. Seems like Dean’s blaming exactly the right person for him being in hell.  
  
Dean starts pacing around, a little bow-legged, scoping out the area, peering down the three branches of the path. “So, what’s your plan?”  
  
“Um.” Sam swallows against a dry throat. The room’s echoey enough he hears the sound off the walls. Sam’s plan probably should’ve been getting the jump on the park ranger and then heading back out the cave’s entrance. But Sam kinda needed to take care of the hole in his side. Now he needs to get out of here before he passes out. So now he just needs to… Needs to…  
  
_He needs Dean_ , Sam thinks tiredly. Which… if he’s stronger, he can save Dean. To get stronger, he’s gotta drink Ruby’s blood. To get Ruby’s blood, he’s gotta find Ruby. And to find Ruby, he’s gotta get out of here alive. Which means… he’s gotta not die of hypovolemic shock in the meantime. “Need some blood.” He finally mutters.  
  
Dean gives him a hard look. “Got any fluids?” Dean mimes shaking a water bottle, shadows dancing across the wall behind him.  
  
Sam shakes his head, squinting against the way everything blurs back and forth.  
  
“How bout—“ Dean stops.  
  
There’s the faint echo of footsteps and talking. Sam tries to concentrate but he can’t tell if the park ranger is talking to himself or has back up. He’s not sure if he could even take one guy on anyway.  
  
“Crap.” Sam pushes himself off the wall, his side burning with pain so hot it feels like ice. He draws in a shaky breath, trying to get his thoughts together.  
  
Heading back the way he came is definitely out. He swings the flashlight at each of the three branches of the path in front of him. The tunnels are equally dark and nondescript.  
  
“Which way?” Dean asks.  
  
Sam’s not even sure if one of these leads out. “Dunno,” he mutters. The chills are starting to creep up his whole body.  
  
Dean starts down the tunnel branching to the left. Sam blinks a couple times at him before following in lurching steps. Good a way as any, he guesses.  
  
He bores holes into Dean’s back while he walks, tracing the plaid collar peaking out over Dean’s jacket. He’d really like an extra jacket about now, he thinks. His teeth are clattering even as he grits them against the pain pulsing in his side.  
  
The path dips suddenly and Sam stumbles. Sound turns to static as he fumbles for the side of the wall and everything goes a little gray.  
  
“— _am, Sam”_ Dean’s mouth is saying.  
  
He manages not to drop the flashlight and he sees Dean’s eyebrows drawn in concern before he hears his words. “You okay?” Dean’s asking.  
  
Sam squints his eyes shut. “Y-you’re not m’ brother,” he mumbles, sagging against the wall. He lets his head kneel against the rock and feels his breaths stutter in and out. He thinks about sliding down the wall. It wouldn’t be hard to curl up and let all his life slip out. It’s not like his blood’s been good for much. (It hasn’t been enough to save Dean.)  
  
“C’mon, Sam.” Dean’s watching him.  
  
Sam shifts, his hand slipping against his side. It’s slick with his blood mixed with Ruby’s. He needs to get back to her; needs to be stronger; needs to save Dean. He presses harder against his side, stars streaking across his vision. He’d follow Dean to hell. He can follow him out of a cave.


End file.
